


Day 30: What if God Was One of Us?

by GemmaRose



Series: Lost Light Fest 2018 [29]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Gen, Identity Reveal, Transformers: Lost Light 22
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-14 09:44:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16490249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: "Oh Primus.""Don't you mean Oh Dad?"Some of the Lost Light sparklings react to the Rung reveal.





	Day 30: What if God Was One of Us?

“And I guess old Primus makes five.” Whirl said, waving one claw towards the planet-sized mech outside the window.

“Hah!” Adaptus scoffed, throwing back his helm. “No, no, no.” he smiled, and Junior fought the urge to shrink closer to Aramis. Member of the Guiding hand or no, she really, _really_ didn’t like this mech.

“That’s not Primus.” his denta flashed as he lifted his arm, gesturing past her and the few younger mechs who hadn’t been sucked out into space. “ _That’s_ Primus.” Adaptus said, and levelled a finger at Rung. Junior bit back a snicker as every optic turned to the ship’s therapist.

“Eyebrows?” Whirl asked incredulously.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Ratchet scoffed, and the older mechs all turned their attention to him but Junior found her optics caught by a flicker of dark... something at the end of Rung’s arm stump.

“Hey, Wing.” she hissed, elbowing the younger speedster to get his attention. “Look.” she pointed, and practically heard Wing’s jaw fall open as Rung’s arm just, grew back. Struts and servos, wire and energon lines, fresh shiny plating, it all materialised in a matter of nano-kliks as they watched.

“Holy slag.” Aramis breathed next to her as Wing let out a low, distressed noise. “He’s _actually_ Primus.”

“I strangled God.” Whirl cackled, and Junior looked up over her shoulder to check on Bell. The massive beast-former looked more than a little stunned, and Junior bit back another laugh. It was rude to laugh at your friends.

“I don’t get it.” Hightop muttered, and Aramis made a noise like he was choking.

“He’s not a god.” Rodimus said firmly. “He’s not a god, or a demi-god, or a semi-god, or a mini-god, he’s _just_ -”

::Bell’s a demi-goddess.:: Aramis commed to her, too tall to whisper in her audial, and Junior stuffed a fist in her mouth to muffle the laughter she couldn’t quite swallow.

“Is it true?” Rodimus asked Rung sharply. “Are you Primus?”

Rung flexed the fingers of his fully regenerated hand, and his green-tinged optics swept over them all before settling on Adaptus. “Yes.” he said, more confidently than Junior could remember ever having heard him sound. “Yes, I am.” he stood up, optics fixed on Adaptus with a foreign light behind them, and Wing made another scratchy noise like he was dying. Junior turned to look, and found him hunched forward with his helm in his hands, optics wide and unseeing. That looked, not good. Damn shame Firestarter wasn’t here, or any medics not currently marvelling at Rung’s new arm.

His new arm, that he’d been able to generate because he was _slagging Primus_. She snorted, and looked up at Bell again. The big femme still looked dazed, and Junior wondered if she’d hit her helm or was just spacing out like Bowrider did sometimes.

“How long have you been able to do this?” Nautica asked, and Junior looked back over at the older mechs.

“To fix myself?” Rung looked down at his new arm, smiling slightly. “Since the beginning. I just forgot, for a while. I mean, I _say_ that, but I've always sensed something was off-kilter. That's why I studied psychiatry, to make sense of myself.”

“But you had no idea?” Nautica pressed. “No idea at all who you were?”

“Not until recently.” Rung shook his helm, and Junior shared a look of surprise with Aramis. He’d known and not told anyone? Then again, the idea of him being Actual Literal Primus was so ridiculous she was still stifling giggles, so she doubted anyone would’ve believed him even if he had.

“How recently?” Rodimus asked, and Rung looked over towards her. No, towards Bell. The others followed his line of sight. “Okay, that’s really recently.”

“Hey, Bell, y’kno what he’s talking about?” Aramis stage-whispered to the youngest femme of their group.

“I- I think.” she said uncertainly, looking down at her hands. “I can do it too.”

“Really?!” Junior’s optic ridges shot up.

“I mean, I know I can. The healing thing, my self-repair is that good too. Slash took my hand off once in a fight and Dad-” her ventilations grew heavy enough to rattle her plating, and Junior patted the big femme’s knee. She really, _really_ wished Firestarter were here. She was so much better at the whole comforting thing.

“So, wait.” Hightop’s optic ridges drew in close to each other, her mouth twisted in a small frown. “If Rung is Primus, then that makes you...”

“A demi-god.” Wing croaked. “Hightop, your mentor is _literally Primus_.” he sounded distressed as he grabbed the big plane’s elbow. “ _Primus_.”

“Demi-goddess, actually.” Aramis interjected. “But that’s only if we’re getting technical.”

Bell swayed suddenly, staggering sideways a step to lean on Aramis. “Oh Primus.” she breathed, and Aramis’s face split with a slag-eating grin.

“Don’t you mean Oh Dad?” he teased, and Junior had to offline her vocaliser before she started cackling out loud in the middle of what seemed to be an incredibly tense situation.


End file.
